My son had a pretty great game last night in his football game. He plays defensive end which means that he is supposed to eat quarterbacks for breakfast. I wish he would eat more quarterbacks for breakfast, because then he wouldn’t eat out as much at expensive fast-food places.

His team was losing most of the game, down by 17 points at halftime. The visiting crowd was starting to chant at us, like it was a good idea. You know, the stupid, “Why so quiet?” chant that they all like to pull out when they’re up by 17 at halftime. What they didn’t know is that we’ve been down by 10 or more this year at halftime in 3 other games that we’ve comeback from. I wasn’t completely confident they would be able to come back, but I also didn’t think it was out of the realm of happening either.

As predicted, the coaches chewed them out for breakfast, lunch and dinner, which explains why the coaches all have dad guts. The team came out a little more fired up, but they didn’t look panicked, which was good, because I was. They forced a turnover and got a touchdown, which made it a little closer, but the opponents chewed up some clock and slowly got at touchdown to go up 17 again.

All of sudden, it was the fourth quarter, and my son’s team was still down 30-17. The boys team scored another touchdown to bring it within 30 to 24, and I was starting to think we could win the game, but I felt like we would have to stop them from scoring for the rest of the game. Of course, my worst nightmares came true when their special teams decided to not kick the ball into the end zone for a touchback. The kick return guy returned it for a touchdown, without miraculously getting any holding penalties (my son’s team somehow always gets penalties when they get kickoff returns). It was then that I knew that thing was over, especially when the opposing student section was doing their stupid, “Why so quiet?” chant.

But his team didn’t believe that. They decided they were going to win the game. They got a 50-yard run for a touchdown, and it was 37-31. My son’s team defense would have to hold them if we had any chance, because if they scored again, it was definitely over. They did so, and got the opponents in a bad spot where they would have to kick from their end zone, so my son’s team got really good field position. They scored on a diving catch in the end zone by one of my son’s teammates since he was in little league football. They went up by 38-37, after the PAT went through. Now that they finally had their first lead since the opening touchdown, they had to hold them for 2 more minutes or all that comebacking would be for nothing.

It was at this time, that my son had to cash in on all the money that we invested in him over the years. It was time for him to eat some quarterbacks for dinner and perhaps some dessert. He was on the right and his counterpart was on the left, and they made a quarterback sandwich, which he said was really tasty, so it was now 3rd and long. All they had to do was stop them one last time, and the comeback would be complete. On the next play, he used up all his pent-up frustration from all his years and perhaps all my years and went Super Saiyan on the quarterback.

After all these years, he finally earned his rent. Not in money and only for a month…we’re still waiting for his $2400 for first and last month’s rent, but buy coming up clutch and winning that game, I assume that the scouts will all be outside our door when I get home asking to sign him to their college along with a hefty NIL deal, which I will take 20% of as his overbearing “agent”.

As a homeowner, I’ve been a really bad Landlord. I keep allowing these people to squat in my house without charging rent. My son has been a really bad tenant, for not only not paying his rent every month, but also not keeping up maintenance in his room very well. I keep thinking I need to evict him, but he keeps insisting that there are tenant laws that protect us from evicting him. I’m going to have a lawyer look over those laws for me.

He’s bad for sure, but insanely enough, we have way worse tenants. We have a bunch of wasps living up in our eaves, which I admit is outside, and they aren’t taking up a lot of space, but we don’t charge as much for our outdoor spaces. Not only do they not pay rent, but as Bill Buttlicker described Dwight Shrute, “They are aggressive, hostile, and definitely difficult.”

They are worse than squatters. They moved in without asking, and they do it while we are living in the house. They don’t care. Talk about bold and oblivious. We’ve tried to evict them over and over again, but they only listen to their queen.

Then there are the mosquitos. There is a constant buzz around the front door. They like to live near our lights, which as you know, adds to our electricity bills, and even though they sometimes pay rent, they won’t pay for their portion of the electricity bill, even though they are the biggest contributors.

At this point I need to hire Mr. Shickadance from Ace Ventura, or that lady that runs Annie’s orphanage to start being my landlord enforcers. These freeloaders need to start paying their rent, or it’s time for me to evict some people, bees and mosquitoes. That doesn’t even include the birds that are building their houses on the front yard tree. I might actually be able to afford my house if any of these people start paying for living at our house.

Otherwise, they are welcome to go live on the streets, or the forest where they really belong. Especially if that kid doesn’t start eating quarterbacks for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Anyways, it’s time for some last second heroics to post some Bitter Friday Giftures to save this blog post…

My son’s job in football…

Last night, he finally did…

The opposing team’s student section…

At halftime…

But as LL Cool J said…

My son, on consecutive plays…

And then for his final play…

He finally earned his first month of rent…

We have worse tenants though…

What’s worse is that they are like Dwight…

It’s time to get Mr. Shickadance…

Especially because he particularly good…

AAARRGGGHHHHHH

Bitter Landlord Ben